


One Short Day With You

by Krasimer



Series: The Summerhold Chronicles [6]
Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: But that's not the end of the story., Cute, M/M, Sweet and fluff and then Lancer dies., The story of what happens after Rewind messes with things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-27 23:53:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5069761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krasimer/pseuds/Krasimer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a cold morning in October when it happened.</p><p>Lancer sat on the porch with Henry-</p><p>(Long since returned to being a ghost, and the panic about that just as over with.)</p><p>-reading a book to him, something he had written when he had first appeared in the Ghost Zone. "The work of an amature." Henry had warned when he pulled it out. "Hardly anything worth listening to."</p><p>"You wrote it," Lancer grinned, shoulders held tiredly as he settled into his chair. "It's probably a little awkward at most, but good otherwise."</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Short Day With You

It was a cold morning in October when it happened.

Lancer sat on the porch with Henry-

(Long since returned to being a ghost, and the panic about that just as over with.)

-reading a book to him, something he had written when he had first appeared in the Ghost Zone. "The work of an amature." Henry had warned when he pulled it out. "Hardly anything worth listening to."

"You wrote it," Lancer grinned, shoulders held tiredly as he settled into his chair. "It's probably a little awkward at most, but good otherwise."

The ghost had cracked open the book, starting on the first page and reading out the story of a knight in shining armor and the young woman he had journied off to save. As the story went on, Lancer's eyes slipped shut, his face splitting into a grin every once in a while when the story went off on some tangent about how much Henry wished he could rewrite one section or a bit of dialogue. 

Occasionally, the flow of words was broken by a deep, hacking cough from Lancer.

"You should be inside," Henry would worry. "Your cold isn't going to get any better by being out here."

"It's not going to get worse, either. Cold doesn't actually make humans sick," he opened one eye to look at his lover. "Besides, there's sunlight out here. It feels nice, as does the breeze. The colors are awe-inspiring, and I've got you here. What else could I need?"

Henry frowned for a moment, pale cheeks flushed green, then thought about something. "I will be right back."

He disappeared inside the house, returning a few minutes later with a bottle of water and a thick quilt. "At least put this over yourself? I'll feel better if you're not shivering every few seconds." he smiled when Lancer allowed it, tucking the edges neatly between the man's body and the arms of the chair. "Shall I continue, or should I shove it back into the Ghost Zone where it belongs?"

"It's a lovely story," Lancer argued, reaching a hand out for the bottle of water. "If you're willing to read it, I want to hear it."

"...The things I do for you," Henry smiled, handing it over as he took to floating next to him again. "Alright, where were we..." he opened the book back up, continuing from where he had left off. "The maiden raised a hand to his cheek, searching his eyes for some sort of reassurance, some sort of sign that he understood..."

Lancer hummed contentedly, sipping at the water.

 

~

 

Weeks had passed since the now infamous 'Rewind incident' as most of those involved had taken to calling it.

The ghosts who had been turned human were returned to their usual state, most of them picking up right where they had left off, but Henry Walters had mourned the loss of a pulse. The teacher he had been seeing, a man named William Lancer, was human, and as scared of ghosts as anyone person could possibly be. It wasn't fair, he thought as he looked at himself in a mirror, flying slowly towards the high school.

When he got there, he headed for the room he knew _his_ teacher would be in, the human indeed sitting at his desk with a stack of papers before him and a red pen in his hand. They had been seeing each other for nearly a month and a half now, only for the possibility to be stripped away in the wake of Henry's reversal of state.

"Oh Liam..." he whispered, knowing that unless he showed himself, it would seem to be nothing more than a breeze through the vents. "Liam, I am so sorry, I did not mean to leave you."

The man paused, looking up for a moment before shrugging it off and adjusting the glasses perched on his nose. The dark frames accented the brightness of his eyes, and Henry wanted nothing more than to pull them off and set them aside before pressing in close and kissing him. They had done that a couple of times, on the days when Liam had too much work to correct to spend a full night with him but had still wanted to see him. It was practically a conditioned response to seeing his stress by now, and Henry nearly sobbed as he floated closer.

He landed on the floor, bracing one hand on the edge of the desk and leaning in to study his face. "I am so sorry." he whispered again.

The man's eyes flicked from the papers to the air in front of his desk, and he frowned before standing up and walking to the door of the classroom. "Hello?" he called out, one hand clenching onto the frame before he stuck his head out the door and looked around. "Is anyone there?"

When he got no response, he looked around once more before shrugging and heading back to his seat, sliding back into the chair with a pained groan. "I need to remember to bring in a better chair..." he muttered.

Henry watched his face again, tracing it from a foot away as he took in the discolored bags beneath the man's eyes. "Someone stole your other one again?"

Liam didn't answer, but the way he stretched his back, popping it back into place, gave Henry all the answer he needed. "I'll be back soon," Henry promised, slipping out of the room and searching all around the school. He eventually found the missing chair in the drama teacher's office, Lancer's name still written on the arm of it.

He smirked as he took hold of it, turning it intangible and heading back to the man's classroom with it. 

When he returned, he nearly laughed at the perfect timing as Liam got up to head out the door, probably to the bathroom. With the man gone, he slid the better chair into place, rushing the one that had hurt him out of the room through the wall. "There," he muttered, satisfied at his handiwork. "Much better."

Lancer came back, wiping his hands off on the back of his pants. "One of these days, I'm going to have to talk to the janitor about the paper towels and the necessity of replacing them..." he grumbled as he sat back down.

It took a few seconds, but eventually he seemed to realize the difference. 

"...Alright." he raised an eyebrow, scratching at his chin. 

Henry smiled, settling himself back on the edge of his desk. "You're less than a year away from retirement, Liam, you need to take care of your back if you want to have your garden and everything else we talked about." he reached for his cheek, as if he were going to rest his hand on it, then drew back at the last second. "You've been so careful with your finances and your home, both prepared for when you get older, you can't just let your body go out of order because you don't feel like yelling at someone about taking your chair."

The teacher stopped in the middle of making a red mark on someone's paper, hand trembling as he held it above the page, his eyes sliding to one side. "What."

"I-" Henry choked out, then fell off the edge of the desk, partially falling through it as he flailed away from the man. "Please don't panic!"

"You're a ghost!" Lancer stepped away from his desk, looking as if he were about to dash out the door, fear making his features go even paler than normal. "And you were-" he choked on the noise he made, covering the cough that followed. "You're a ghost and you-"

"I am not going to hurt you." Henry held out his hands placatingly, finally managing to right himself. "I swear to you, I -"

"...Henry?"

He closed his eyes as a wave of regret and fear washed over him. "Liam."

"Henry, how did you die? You were fine when I last saw you!" Liam stepped a little closer, caution still keeping him further away than Henry would have liked. "I was going to call you."

With a sigh, Henry got up from the floor, his gaze pinned on his feet. "There are some things that I have to tell you, and I should have told you from the moment we met, because they are the sort of things that would have made you think twice about me." he swallowed, sticking his hands in his pockets. 

Lancer approached him slowly, reaching out a hand to press it to his shoulder. "You feel cold. Is that what death is? Cold and-" he cut himself off, meeting Henry's eyes. "When?"

"...Nineteen forty-three." Henry answered slowly, refusing to look back to Lancer as he spoke. "I starved to death in the midst of the war, I was a poet and I ran from the draft." he paused, his green tongue visible with his mouth open. "I died almost twenty years before you were born. When I ended up in the Ghost Zone, I was dropped into the Tower of Time, and from there I was sent back in time to find the ghost who became my teacher."

Eyes wide and jaw slack, Liam studied the ghost for a minute. "You did say that the things you needed to tell me were decision changing." he bit the inside of his cheek. "How were you human? I know for a fact that you had a pulse and body heat when we-" he flushed a deep red color.

"There was a ghost who called himself Rewind. He stole the staff of the current Master of Time, and he attacked myself and others, turning back our personal timelines and returning us to our previous living states." Henry flexed a hand, watching the shift of ectoplasm beneath the skin. "I was going to tell you when we first started our relationship, but everytime I tried to bring it up, there was something that prevented me from speaking. Mostly it was my own selfishness, I suppose."

Liam frowned. "Is that particular threat over?"

"Yes. Rewind has been dealt with and locked away." Henry made a face. "Hopefully never to see the light of day."

"That rhymed." Liam grinned. "You were a beat poet. The writing that came out of that era influenced the ones I grew up in. Without them, the world would have been fundamentally different in the sixties and seventies."

"...You aren't panicking."

"Why would I be?" Liam cupped a hand around Henry's chin. "Alright, I admit that the ghostly status of the man I was dating is a bit of a surprise, but you're still you, correct? And you've given me your word that you won't hurt me." he frowned. "Can ghosts have relationships with humans?"

"It gets a little trickier than with another ghost, or with two humans." Henry answered promptly.

"I think I can work with that."

 

~

 

Henry frowned as he flipped the page, his voice faltering. "Oh, how I wish I had a correcting solution with me right now."

"Just read it, Henry." Lancer smiled at the ghost, folding his hands across his stomach and slouching in his chair. "It's been wonderful so far, I have no doubt in your writing abilities, even if you do."

"Sometimes you put too much faith in my stories." Henry grinned back, clearing his throat before starting again.

 

~

 

"You need to tell him one day, I don't think that you're always going to be human."

"I will tell him, just give me time."

Danielle rolled her eyes, punching Henry's shoulder almost lovingly. "I'm not sure how much time you get, here."

"I know."

 

~

 

The trees rustled in the wind, clouds covering the sun as Henry's voice faltered once more. "Liam? It's getting colder."

"I know."

"Wouldn't you be more comfortable inside?" Henry looked over at the man, taking in the sight of his contented expression and his relaxed position in the chair. By now, the ghost had fetched slippers and a scarf for the man, as well as the blanket and water from before. "Or are you alright as you are?"

Lancer laughed. "Are you just trying to get out of reading your story to me? I'm fine, Henry."

 

~

 

The ghost of time was, at first glance, visually underwhelming.

Lancer watched as the purple robed ghost floated around the room, sliding a gloved finger down the spine of each book his eyes landed on. "Is there a reason you're here?"

"You've been aware of Henry Walters's ghostly status for some time now," the ghost answered, a small smirk on his lips as he spotted a small watercolor that Lancer had painted of Henry. "Has that influenced your decisions about him at all?"

"Back when he was human for a little while, I started trying to get myself in better shape for him." Lancer answered, clasping his hands together behind his back. "If that's what you mean."

"It is," Clockwork turned to look at him, his arm relaxing so that his staff lifted off the floor and angled downwards. "But there is something you need to know, and it is a warning I must give you before your time..." he made a face. "And that's an expression I have almost always hated. The warning I must give you is that you started trying a little too late."

"My health is still going to decline, you mean." Lancer pinched a bit of his stomach. "I'm a human male in my fifties, I'm still going to die earlier than I was originally supposed to."

"Yes."

"...Are you going to tell me when?"

Clockwork's grin was almost answer enough.

 

~

 

At noon, Lancer shifted in his seat, turning to watch as Henry read the story outloud. 

His beard was much more salt and pepper colored than it had been only a year before, and the lines around his eyes were even deeper than they had been when the two of them had met. The ghost, sensing he was being watched, turned to look at the human. "Is there something you need?" he asked, slipping a bookmark into place as he looked the man over. "Is everything alright?"

"I'm fine, Henry." Lancer smiled at him. "I'm just thinking."

"About what?"

"The day we met. I never expected things to go this way, and I am strangely glad that they did." Lancer reached a hand out to press it against Henry's cheek, his thumb stroking over the ghost's cheekbone. "You helped me get over my fear of ghosts, too."  
Henry leaned into the touch, smiling as he pressed a gentle kiss to Liam's palm. "I am inordinately glad that you no longer fear me."

"I don't think I ever actually did." 

"That is good to hear." Henry set the book down on the footrest he had procured for the man. "Is the story to your liking?"

"Yes, it's quite wonderful." Lancer took a deep breath. "What time is it?"

Sticking his head through the wall briefly, Henry pulled back out with a smile on his face. "It is just after noon. Do you need food before we continue?"

"How many minutes after noon?"

Frowning now, Henry paused before he answered. "Seven. Is there a reason?"

"It's happening soon." Lancer sat up slowly. "Promise me that you won't panic, that you'll just get help from Danny and his group. You're going to need to have a clear head for what lies in the future." he resettled himself, clasping his hands back together over his stomach, curling his fingers into the blanket. "I have about two minutes."

"Liam, two minutes to what?"

Lancer didn't answer him, choosing instead to smile, eyes focused intently on the ghost. "I am so glad for the time that you and I got together."

"Liam?"

The man didn't answer.

"Liam." Henry's eyes went wide. "Liam? Liam!"

Lancer's chest stopped moving. 

"LIAM!"

 

~

 

The funeral was small, friends and family only, not that Lancer had had many of either.

Most of the people in attendance were Danny and his family, forming a ring of support around Henry as he watched the coffin being lowered into the ground. Unusual for most funerals, a headstone was placed almost immediately. 

"How did they have a stone already?" Dan asked the Writer, arms crossed over his chest.

Henry turned to look at him. "He ordered it a few months back. I don't know how, but the date of death is correct. It's like he knew, somehow."

The rest of the funeral was silent except for the reading of the final sermon.

When everyone else left, Henry sat himself down on top of the grave, tracing Lancer's name with his fingers.

 

~

 

Three months passed.

Henry still sat at William Lancer's grave.

 

~

 

The fourth month was different.

"You look a little too sad," came a voice from behind Henry, causing the ghost to jolt and look around. Another ghost was there, one that had a full head of black hair that was paired with a black beard and glasses. "Is there anything I can do to help?" he gestured awkwardly around them, his slim but fit body strangely familiar in it's unfamiliarity.

"You can leave me alone." Henry hissed back, turning away from him to focus back on the gravestone again.  
For a moment, he thought the ghost had gone away, but he was proven wrong when a pair of slack-clad legs came into his field of vision and the ghost settled down next to him. The slightly blue pallor of the new ghost made him sigh, but he nearly took his hand off when it reached out to touch Liam's grave. 

"Don't-"

"I'm glad that it turned out as nice as it is. I would have hated to be marked by something that didn't look right." 

Henry stopped, went completely still with his hand in the air as he looked at the ghost. "...What?"

The ghost turned to look at him, tangling their fingers together. "If you were sitting here, hoping for me to become a ghost at my grave, I'm afraid you were mistaken, Henry." he smiled, the purple of his eyes glowing faintly as it started to rain. "I came to at the school, feeling better than I have in years. I worked there for so long, I guess it just became my fixation when I passed on."

Barely daring to do anything besides hold tighter to the hand in his, Henry's eyes went as wide as they could go. "Liam?"

"My title is 'The Bookkeeper', and I would prefer to be around the one who creates books for me to keep." Liam grinned at him, revealing a pair of fangs. "Do you want to head home, whereever that may be for us now?"

With a sob, Henry threw himself at Liam, the both of them tumbling end over end through the graveyard.

When they came to a stop, Henry wrapped himself around the other ghost, pressing his face into his neck. "I will follow you everywhere you choose to go, Bookkeeper, and I will write poetry on the beauty of your existence in a world that I thought had forever gotten rid of you."

Liam laughed, pressing his lips to Henry's.

**Author's Note:**

> Why do I ship this, almost no one else does. I have to create most of the writing and drawings that get done for this pairing.
> 
> Anyways, if you read this, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
